


Bitter Thoughts

by Freak0la



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, F/M, Incest, M/M, Slurs, Violence, age gap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:26:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freak0la/pseuds/Freak0la
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a successful director & model can come with a lot of pros and cons. The pros? Attention, drugs & people groveling at your feet. The cons? Attention, drugs and people groveling at your feet. You're going to be seeing Dirk in two weeks and what do you have to give him? Apologies and a drug problem? What kind of brother are you? </p><p>Being a successful genius engineer & a pretty attractive teen who lives alone can come with a lot of pros & cons. The pros? Parties, alcohol & a lot of alone time. The cons? Parties, alcohol & a lot of alone time. You're going to be seeing Dave in two weeks and what do you have to give him? Low self-esteem & hangovers? What kind of brother are you?</p><p>Doesn't help that either of them have had eachother on their minds every time their hands slide down their pants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Starbucks and Soft Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My friend Dirk](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+friend+Dirk).



"I put my heart & soul into my work, and I have lost my mind in the process."

\- Vincent Van Gogh

 

_Dave's POV_

 

This isn't new. Leaning over the thick edge of the porcelain sink in the Starbuck's unisex bathroom isn't new. It was a daily ritual and you knew that it was your fault that you acted this way. But no matter how much your common sense scolded you from the back of your head, you always found yourself cutting and lining up the white powder with the razor blade you carry in your wallet. 

The light above you shone a dim blue. It smelled intensely of Febreeze. It was the pine tree kind. You knew this, because there's a bottle of it in the staff bathroom on the fourth floor. Every day after lunch time, someone always seems to think its a great idea to use the entire fucking bottle; so that when someone entered the tiny bathroom, that poor soul coughed for a few minutes. It amazes you that the bottle hasn't seemed to run out yet. 

You sharply inhale through your nose and though the rolled up twenty dollar bill as your face hovers over the familiar drug.  _Only one more line._  You found this phrase repeating in your head every time you started snorting your line of coke. You didn't even put any effort into thinking that. You've conditioned yourself to think the meaningless phrase. You know there will never be one last line. At least not until the day your heart stops. You straighten your back and rub your nose with your right hand. Glancing down, you check your watch that was on your left wrist. 1:30 pm. It was time to get back. Just on time. You were always on time. You cleared your throat and stared into the mirror, fixing your hair and tie. Your shades were resting on your head so you saw bags under your eyes and these weren't just your normal Target brand bands. These were original Gucci eye bags hanging from your crimson eyes. Deep and a dark blue. Your skin was a soft tan colour and was littered with brown freckles as it has always been. Your dirty blond hair had been dyed to look the way it does, your natural hair colour was a pale brown. You didn't think it suited you so you had been dying your hair the dirty blond you choose since the 8th grade. Though, your eyebrows did not match your hair. Natural nor dyed. You liked colouring if your eyebrows with a dark brown eye shadow. In all honesty you always put way too much work into your face. People often mocked you for it. But you knew that if someone complained, you looked better than them anyway. You sighed and tucked your razor back into your wallet and slid your shades down over your eyes. After scratching your growing stubble that came from your chin, you rolled your neck, cracking it and walked over to the bathroom exit. 

Idle chatter polluted the small Starbucks. It was almost like an annoying buzzing. It pissed you off and you made a beeline to the front door. A bell hung at peace against the top of the glass door. When you swung it open, it let out a small spurt of rings before ceasing completely. A wave of restlessness washed over you and instinctively, you reached for your pack of reds. They rested in a pocket on the inside of your suit coat. Your fingers held the pack with a wasted sense of gentleness. The city's chatter was almost just as annoying but you were in a better mood now. You lit the cigarette you balanced between your lips, breathing the smoke in. You found yourself sometimes glancing backwards & you didn't like this feeling. The feeling of someone following you. Your Louis Vuitton shoes slapped against the concrete in a frantic pace. Your mind raced with possibilities of who could be following you. You have yet to see someone but you know someone is there.. Right? You decided to pick up the pace, flicking your cigarette butt into the street. Glancing one more time around you, you begin to head inside. 


	2. Blowjobs Suck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insert some other kind of pun about sucking dick here.  
> There's also gonna be some descriptive shit about the stuff that comes w hangovers i.e. vomiting so viewer discretion advised??

"In the absence of empathy, you will find malevolence."

-Pete Fleming

 

_Dirk's POV_

 

As soon as your eyes struggled to open, your gut churned. Fuck, you did not feel well. But it was a feeling you knew like the back of your hand. You sit up from where you were laying on the floor. This was Roxy's place. Roxy Lalonde is a close friend of yours and in all honesty, you could almost call this place your home. You've only come over a couple hundred times. 

Roxy's house was a perfect party house. The three gigantic floors included several bedrooms, bathrooms, a spacious living room and a huge backyard that has a pool and a great overlook of the small city. Who wouldn't come here to party? Since Roxy's mom was too busy traveling, the house is almost always empty. When Rox's huge parties weren't happening, of course. 

You started to get up, looking around and taking in your surroundings. You were in the living room and you guess you must've passed the fuck out. The thought comes and goes. You're not really worried about it as it has happened to you several times before. But fuck, as you got up and your head began to spin, you knew this was one feeling you will never get used to. As your chest hiccuped and you struggled to not vomit all over yourself, you rushed to the bathroom. It was almost second nature. 

Your knees stung from being slammed on the tile floor at the speed of light. You knew you couldn't hold whatever food that was in your stomach any more than you already did. You clung onto the porcelain bowl for dear life, vomiting bile and nasty chunks of half digested food. The literal gut-wrenching sound always made you feel worse about yourself. As the water splashed, you begin to recall events from the night before. 

* * *

 

The booze had finally started to kick in and you almost thanked whatever God was watching. You weren't feeling yourself that day and you needed a distraction. But at the moment, your mouth was filled with some older guy's cock. In your opinion, this guy wasn't that much older than you. A seven year difference isn't 'old'. But this guy was the oldest there and you swore to yourself that you'd never suck another teenage dick because come on. These assholes don't seem to know the slightest definition of person hygiene. The smell of genitalia is already kinda gross. You don't need dirty dicks in your mouth. 

The guy whose name had already slipped your mind, was standing against the bathroom door. This bathroom was located on the second floor. Roxy had oh-so-nicely suggested that this bathroom was usually the best for sucking dick. For some weird reason, no one ever came in here to do drugs or whatever the fuck else you would do in a bathroom. Everyone usually stuck to the third floor ones. 

Being the extremely talented cock sucker you are, (A title you are personally proud of) you made sure to try to edge this dude until the point of begging. You didn't like how he bit his lip to keep his mouth shut so after pleasing him for a bit, you decided to change things up. 

You increased your pace, sucking and bobbing with rhythm. Your hands pinned his waist down, you didn't want him moving. You wanted him to know that you had control. He'd be getting off with his left hand if it weren't for you. The way you pressed your tongue against his erection and kept your lips wrapped around him told him this. Your amber eyes glanced up at him with the faux "Am I doing okay?" look. As if this was your first time sucking someone off. But that look always drove them crazy. As the other guy looked down at you, you felt your gut flip. He had dirty blonde hair and a goatee that looked like he half-assed it last minute. He reminded you of someone you should  _not_  be thinking about with a dick in your mouth. Without warning, the man's hands were behind your head and he pulled you down, cumming down your throat and moaning with a low grunt.

You gagged and punched his shin. He pulled his leg up and let out a soft, "Ow, what the fuck." After pulling back, you shot him a glare and stood. The other was about your height so there was no way he could avoid the burning glare you were engraving in his skull.

"Thanks for the heads up, you fuckin' ass." The guy only shrugged and started pulling up his briefs and jeans. 

"Whatever, dude, you probably loved it." You stared him in the eyes and spit in the sink. He smirked to himself, rubbing his injured shin, soon standing on two feet again.

"Ew." You started washing your mouth out by dipping your head under the running faucet. The 25 year old seemed butthurt that you didn't like the flavour of his jizz. 

"Thought by now you'd be used to the taste. Slut." And with that, the door opened and shut. You only sighed. You wouldn't have any time to reply even if you wanted to. What would you say any way? 

Your eyes stared into the ones that reflected off the small mirror above the sink. A heavy feeling poisoned your stomach and it started to become overwhelming. You cannot deny that you thought of Bro just then. It had happened too many times already for you to deny it. With a frustrated grunt, you kicked the cabinet under the sink and put your head in your hands. Maybe if you drink one more beer, one more anything, maybe you can jack off without feeling guilty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remembering what happened the night before is always fun.  
> Any feedback would be rad thx

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published work, any feedback would be great, thank you ~  
> Also, each chapter will alternate point of view, Dave to Dirk then back to Dave and so on.  
> The first two chapters are gonna be short for the sake of introduction. Bare with me, thanks.


End file.
